Up

This is poem about what it's like

experiencing mania as a regular mode of being.

Up

an inflated sense of self-importance

enough to be an artist

feeling like the smartest

damn ma’m around the land

on top of the world

where lonely lives?

only for wimpy kids…

but not for when

i’m my own best friend.

sensing signs

of the divine

intuitively within my

moves indubitably 

defined:

above and beyond

the mundane 

call me vain

if it’s to name

the great escape

in an elevated mind

this kind of bliss

uprooting the norm

has me soaring

defeating boring

states, replaced

by an occupation

with continual creation-

the buildup

of myself

a grandiose trophy

on the highest shelf.

i can run

careful not to try to fly

but i can buy

a ticket to go

to a show

for showing off

i can dance

interpretive enhance

of a spirit in freedom

of a beauty bold

of a woman who don’t need them

of an enlightening soul.

it’s sometimes unknown

the trail i’m biking on

yet as sure as the sun’s rising

i’ll be energizing

this life as a hike

adventurous and limitless

like i feel

in the middle of the night

as i write

poems at home in the zone

a trait of someone awake

from decreased desire

for sleep

only the weak

clock into monotony

thus my autonomy

supports increased amplifiers

for the pursuit of loves unhinged 

perhaps i’m a bit cringe

but howdy hey hi

i’m free as a bird skyhigh.

let’s craft a stage

from a forest

i’ll chop the trees

carry the wood

construct a castle

cast the talent-

an open call

for pixie dreamers

& you, arrive sharp

when venus alignes with neptune

i’ll twist balloons in a commune

then we’ll have americanas at noon

brunch for everybody pre-pilates

followed by dinner with the illuminati.

there’s nothing unwell

about me; i’m just a girl

as a queen of the world

& otherworldly.